


In the Red

by Remisfriend26



Category: White Collar
Genre: Discipline, Guns, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 18:50:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12538792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remisfriend26/pseuds/Remisfriend26
Summary: Neal/Mozzie break into Sara Ellis’ place to steal the tape that promises to give Neal information regarding Kate’s death. Peter does not approve of their behaviour... Warning: spanking of an adult by mentor.





	In the Red

**Author's Note:**

> Still own nothing (sadly). Just borrowing. Another one I wrote a while back and didn't get around to posting. But Neal and Peter are just too fun to write :-)
> 
> Ps: Another Blue Bloods fic is in the works for those waiting on more :) Soon, I promise!

A knock at the door had Neal Caffrey moving to answer it, his usual pristine appearance now disheveled with his shirt hanging out loosely. He blinked in surprise when he opened the door and saw Sarah Ellis. Even as he offered an uncertain, “Sara?” he noticed an FBI agent standing beside her and officers behind them. 

“Detective Lewis,” the agent greeted, offering him a smile. 

Sarah beckoned to the criminal informant, waving a hand loosely. “This is Neal Caffrey,” she explained by way of introduction.

Detective Lewis offered another smile, holding up a folded sheet of paper. “This is a search warrant. We're looking for the stolen FAA package.”

Neal stepped back to let them inside, raising his eyebrows charismatically at Sara. “Points for persistence.”

Sara rolled her eyes, strolling into the immaculate flat and looking round in interest. “A lot harder to beat than a lie detector. Nice place, Neal,” she commented, mildly amused.

“I've seen yours, you've seen mine, we're even.” Neal shrugged, relaxed. No way would Mozzie be so stupid as to leave the package here… Before he could consider that thought further, Sara started sniping at him again.

“If I snuck in here with a gun, then we'd be even,” she shot back, before softening as she glanced at a nearby oak coffee table tucked into a corner of the room. “Mid 19th century tiger oak," she said in amazement, walking quickly toward the piece. "Hand carved. It's beautiful,” she admitted, trailing her left hand along the wood absentmindedly as her attention moved to the dark armoire on the far wall. 

Neal sighed. “If I stole the package you think I'd keep it here?”

Sara shrugged, “Why not?” She tugged on the locked door of the armoire.

“Let me help you out with that,” Neal offered, moving to help her open the mirrored door.

That got a genuine smile from Sara. “Thank you,” she commented, before turning back to her surroundings with a smirk. “How did you con your way into this place?”

Neal frowned. He was really starting to get fed up of all the insinuations that he couldn’t show any decency. Sure, he was a con, but he could be an honest man on occasion. “You are convinced I don't have an honest bone in my body,” he muttered as if to himself, trying not to look too offended.

The smirk Sarah levelled in his direction was enough to make his blood boil, just a little bit. “Give me a good reason to think otherwise.”

“There's nothing here,” Neal insisted, spreading his arms at the room around him. 

“Ms. Ellis?” Detective Lewis interrupted their game of cat-and-mouse, appearing round the corner with the missing FAA package in hand. 

Neal’s eyes widened a fraction as he realised what the Fed was holding. He turned to Sara, swallowing even as he tried to come up with something to diffuse the situation. “I can explain that...”

***

Peter smiled at Diana as she stepped into his office. His main suspect had just left the department in annoyance, much to Diana’s confusion. “You get him?” she asked, smiling when Burke grinned and nodded in confirmation.  
“Oh, I got him. He blinks twice. Two little blinks, just like that when he lies,” Peter explained, giving her a brief demonstration before stopping. He’d seen the concern in her hazel eyes before and usually it only meant one particular cause for headache in his life. “What?”

Diana swallowed nervously. She didn’t _want_ to be the bearer of bad news, but she recognised Burke’s expression and knew that he’d prefer the truth without a long meander to get to it. “It's Neal,” she explained simply.

“Where is Neal?” Peter asked, suddenly on alert. The older agent glanced down into the bullpen, belatedly realising his troublesome CI was nowhere to be seen. “The game starts in three hours,” he added as an afterthought, starting to worry.

“He's being arrested.”

***

“You have the right to remain silent…”

Neal bit back a sigh, turning towards the fed behind him in resignation of being arrested -- _again_ \-- but bored of all the talking that went with it. “I'm familiar with the speech,” he interrupted, turning back to Sara and shooting her his most sincere look. Peter was going to _kill_ him when he found out Neal wouldn’t be at the poker game. The cuffs around his wrists felt a little too familiar, the metal cold against his skin.“Sara, this is a bad time.”

Sarah met Neal’s imploring gaze with a hard look. She had no intention of backing down and letting Caffrey steal something else from her. Not this time. Besides, it didn’t fill her with much comfort to know he _could_ break into her apartment so easily. 

Just then, Peter appeared in the doorway of Neal’s apartment, interrupting Neal’s attempts to sweeten up the irate woman. “Agent Burke,” he introduced himself calmly, tucking his credentials back into the inside pocket of his striped suit as Neal tried to desperately appeal to the older man’s protective instincts.

“Peter, will you please tell..?” Neal tried to lift his arms, but his movements were obviously restricted by the handcuffs. 

Peter let his eyes convey his frustration the second he met Neal’s blue ones, quickly shutting the younger man up. He _hated_ seeing Neal restricted like that and he was frankly annoyed by how often it just seem to happen. The agent turned to Sara with a polite, professional smile. “What's going on here?”

“Neal stole a package,” the brunette woman explained simply. Peter’s gaze returned to Neal’s, scrutinising him for a moment before coming to a decision. “Detective, may I speak with Mr.  
Caffrey, please?”

“Sure,” the fellow Fed shrugged, nodding before stepping away to give them privacy.

“Thank you,” Peter said sincerely, closing the distance between himself and Neal, leaning in close and lowering his voice so no one could hear their conversation. “Did you steal it?” he asked simply.

“No,” Neal insisted, meeting his gaze. He had no doubt he would sound more believable if he had not just been arrested. 

Peter raised an eyebrow, “Mozzie?”

Neal shrugged awkwardly, gaze falling towards the floor. He knew Peter could see past any potential omissions, and only weeks ago he’d informed Peter he’d never lied to him. That was true and Neal planned to keep it that way for a long time to come.

Peter bit back a sigh. “You realize what…”

“Yes.”

“You can't play if…”

Again Neal cut his mentor off quietly. “I _know.”_

Both men’s gazes turned to Sara for a moment before Neal spoke again quietly. “She's mad,” he urged meaningfully, shooting his best ‘puppy dog’ gaze at his handler.

Peter nodded unsympathetically. “Yeah.”

They heard a ‘Yes, sir’ in the background and after he scrutinized Neal hard for a moment, Peter spoke again, eyes remaining on Neal’s. “Detective. He's all yours.” 

Neal eyed him in disbelief as Detective Lewis took a hold of his arm and started to walk him out the door and towards the stairs. 

Peter waited until Neal was out of the apartment before speaking again.“Sara.”

She turned on her heel, defensively countering whatever crappy excuse the older man had to defend the criminal she’d _finally_ caught. It wasn’t the Raphael but it was close enough. “Peter, just forget it, all right? He broke into my house. Again.”

Peter didn’t refute the statement, instead tilting a head towards the envelope sealed in an evidence bag clutched in her hands. “You know what that is?” he asked quietly.

Sara eyed him in confusion. “No.”

Peter kept his game face on, allowing only his eyes to convey his concern for his friend. “I think it has something to do with Kate Moreau,” Peter paused before elaborating on his thoughts. “And when it comes to her, Neal's judgment is severely lacking.”

Sara sighed, feeling her resolve beginning to dwindle. “All right, fine. Why am I involved?” she asked, letting her frustration bubble to the service.

“I don't know, “ Peter swallowed, knowing what he needed to say next and that his delivery was key. “Look, I understand why you're pressing charges, I get it. But I'm gonna ask you not to.”

Sara scoffed, rolling her eyes, “Oh, this ought to be good.”

Peter ignored the jibe, sliding his hands into his pocket. “It's an adoption scam. There's a kid. He's caught in the middle of all this.” Again, Peter paused, getting ready to open up an all-new can of worms. “Neal is integral to our takedown.”

Sarah frowned. “How integral?”

Peter shrugged, “Can't do it without him.”

Sara bit her lip, searching his face for a moment, then sighed in defeat. “A kid?” 

Peter nodded in response.

Sarah bit her lip, feeling the rest of her resolves slipping away. "Okay," she whispered, though parts of her knew she was making a mistake. 

Peter offered a grateful smile, holding her gaze as he made a quiet promise that he hoped might ease the sting of what he was asking. “I’ll deal with him. You have my word. I won’t let this go unanswered for.”

Sara nodded silently, sighing after a moment’s hesitation and turning towards the door to let Lewis and NYPD know she wasn’t going to press charges. Peter watched her go grimly. It wasn’t the first time Neal had bitten off more than he could chew and the seasoned agent knew he needed to do something. He knew how they would be approaching the discussion he’d promised Sara, but right now they didn’t really have time because the case was picking up speed. Still, maybe Burke could carve out an hour to reign Caffrey back in after the poker game. 

He sighed. Sometimes being the boss wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

***

Not wanting to slip up twice in the same day, Neal had made it to their destination well on time. He sat at the bar, elegantly sipping a bourbon on ice while eyeing the perimeter, waiting for well-known faces to show up. Neal would never admit it but he was nervous. Nobody had ever been able to see through him like Peter Burke could. He'd known, in that moment when Sara appeared at the bottom of the stairs leading to Neal’s apartment, that his mentor had once again managed to get him out of trouble, but not without cost.

He could talk his way out of a lot of things, even with a man like Peter, but he knew he didn't have an excuse for getting Mozzie to steal the envelope containing the tape from the plane. It wasn't like Peter would have an issue with Neal wanting to hear the recording; Peter too had been trying to unearth the brains behind the operation that Kate killed. It was just so infuriatingly _slow_ waiting for Peter and Diana to find information out by their official channels when Moz could help so much faster. 

After this though, Neal wouldn't be surprised if Peter forbade him from looking any further into his girlfriend’s untimely demise. The ex-con would have pushed an agitated hand through his hair, but he couldn't be seen looking unkempt amongst all these strangers. Letting his hair down with family, grifters and otherwise, was one thing. He prided himself on his appearance and not even his nerves could outweigh his need to appear outwardly calm and sophisticated.

Sighing, he lifted his drink and took a sip, trying to get his head into the role he needed to slip into. While he’d removed the tracking anklet, , Peter had said they'd _talk_ after the poker game and Neal resigned himself that he had a good talking-to in store. For now, he was just happy to be useful, and with the tracking device gone, his mood was instantly lifted. Some cases were too dangerous for him to wear the anklet; if some of the perps they chased down saw it, it could ruin their investigation and put Neal in danger. In those situations, the tracker was removed and replaced with a black leather watch that did the same job without being as conspicuous in undercover operations. Neal could handle that problem when it reached the top of the list in his mind. Besides, maybe if he managed to really line their ducks up in the game, then Peter would cut him some slack. Unlikely, but possible. Of course, he could always just ditch the watch and make a run for it, but that was his least favorite option.

He leaned down in his seat, rubbing his ankle absentmindedly where his tracker should have been. He was always glad to get rid of it, but part of him almost _missed_ it; the security and consistency it offered had become the backbone of his life in the months he'd been working for Peter. Sure, he missed his freedom and the ability to make decisions without people breathing down his neck in the way his handler did, but the more time he spent with the seasoned agent, the more he was starting to think that a life above board might not be so bad after all. He’d just have to ease himself into it slowly, leaving plenty of time for an occasional… adventure.

Neal shook his head with a sigh, checking the time on his replacement tracker; the watch on his wrist looked classy, perfect for the identity he needed to slip on like a well-fitting glove. It was show time, Neal mused. He took a deep breath and let himself switch roles, submersing himself in the persona at hand. Later tonight, when he'd run this con and done his job, Peter would be right there, frowning and scolding in disapproval for his little dabble back into thievery. When the game was over, he would have to face the music, but for now, Neal Caffrey was a pro, with only a single objective: to win this poker game!

***

Neal sighed, scratching in satisfaction. The poker game had gone to plan and it looked like they'd caught Donovan. He listened as Peter congratulated the team and thanked them for their hard work before sending everyone home to rest with directives for the following morning.

When Peter had finished the impromptu debrief, Neal headed to his own desk. He slid his fitted suit jacket on, then flipped his favourite hat onto his head, humming to himself in satisfaction at a job well done.

He was halfway to the doors of the White Collar division’s office, pausing uneasily when he heard a whistle behind him. He turned round slowly, fighting a wince when Peter spoke above him. “Wait up, Neal. We still need to have a conversation about what happened earlier.”

Neal offered Peter his most charming smile and hoped it would be enough to stay the lecture he had coming. Peter wasn't phased. “I'll be five minutes. Stay there. I don't want to spend the night chasing you down, kid.”

Satisfied he'd do as he was told, Peter disappeared back into his office, leaving Neal to wait nervously. The agent was downstairs in less than five minutes, offering Neal a reassuring smile as he arrived at his desk.

“C’mon, let's get out of here,” Peter instructed, leading the way towards the elevators. Neal shot him a couple of curious glances but wasn't sure how to break the silence that Peter seemed content to let stretch out between them.

He followed the older man into the elevator and down to the garage, agreeing quietly when Peter offered to drive him home. He didn't want to accept, but he had a feeling it wasn't really a question so much as an order. 

They set off for June’s apartment, both lost in their thoughts as they enjoyed the mild evening passing by, both considering the conversation they'd soon be having.

***

Neal turned on the charm when June popped her head round to see who was walking through the house with her lodger. “Evening, June. How are you?” Neal greeted, making a beeline to give her a warm hug and kiss on her cheek.

“Oh, what a fine young man you are Neal! I'm just about to turn in for the night, but my day’s always that much better when I catch you. Let me know if you need anything. Hi, Peter.”

“Hi June.” Peter offered her a warm smile and waited patiently as she said goodnight to Neal and went towards her private quarters. 

Neal managed to keep up the smile until she’d disappeared from view before turning his attention back to his handler, deciding to try his luck. “Thank you for the ride, Peter. I can make it to my room from here.”

“Nice try, Caffrey. Quit stalling. I still plan on sharing a drink with my wife this evening.”

“Then there's no need to walk me upstairs…” Neal insisted, frowning when Peter shook his head tiredly.

“Yes, there is. You nearly got yourself arrested today. If I hadn't convinced Sara to drop the charges you'd be back in a cell and our deal would be null and void. When are you going to learn to trust me, even when it comes to Kate?” Peter swore he saw a blush creep across Neal's cheeks at the mention of his near arrest and knew his friend was going to clam up if he wasn't careful. He sighed, running a hand across his own jaw. “Alright, we'll talk about this upstairs. I'd prefer some privacy anyway. Lead the way, Caffrey.”

Neal nodded, turning quietly towards the stairs leading up to his studio. He didn't know how to respond to Burke’s question; how could he explain that he _did_ trust Peter, more than anyone else in the world, but he needed to find out who'd stolen Kate from him? Outwardly, people thought he was dealing with her death admirably, but he wasn't. He knew he was barely keeping this con alive and if Peter pushed too much tonight he wasn't sure he could hide behind his pretences much longer. Peter saw past his defences better than anyone else in his life ever had, even more so than Moz. Moz preferred to let him have his secrets, whereas Peter seemed set on dragging everything into the open.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he barely registered them arriving at the door to his small apartment. Temporarily flustered, he fumbled in his pocket for his key, hurrying to unlock the door and let his (admittedly unwanted) guest inside. “Can I get you a drink or anything?” he asked, falling back on social niceties as he tried to work out what Peter was going to say about his latest infraction. 

Peter had said earlier that he'd promised Sara he’d deal with Neal’s thievery, but he wasn't sure how Peter planned to do that. There was one possibility that Peter had taken to using recently that he didn't even want to consider. No, Peter would just ream him out and then go back home to Elizabeth and Satch and enjoy his cozy life; a life that Neal had been robbed off when Fowler blew up the plane and killed Kate.

The reminder of his reasons for sending Moz to steal the tape from Sara rekindled his belief that stealing the package from Sara had been an unfortunate necessity. He needed closure and he needed vengeance. Peter could say whatever he wanted, but it was not going to stop Neal from getting the brand of justice he needed. At least, that's what he stubbornly insisted in the comfort of his own mind. 

“Sure. Water would be great.” 

Neal nodded, offering a smile laden with charm he didn't feel, and went to collect two bottles of water from his fridge. They drank in silence for a couple of minutes, the air charged between them with the tension of the situation they'd found themselves in earlier that day. Eventually Peter broke the silence. “Neal.”

Neal looked over, hoping his eyes didn't betray the feeling of butterflies dancing around his stomach. “Mm?”

“Why did you steal the package from Ms. Ellis?” The older man asked quietly, hoping his friend would be honest with him about that much at least.

“I already told you,” Neal countered in frustration, “I didn't steal it.”

Peter raised his eyebrows. “Alright then, why did you get the little guy to steal it?”

“Who says I asked him to do anything? I’m not his boss and he's nobody’s slave. You've met him. You _know_ he doesn't do anything he doesn't want to."

“Uh-huh…” Peter hummed skeptically, hooking his currently not-in-use left hand into the waistband of his dress pants. “So what did you say to him? You had to have planted the idea in his head.”

Neal didn't answer.

Peter waited a beat longer before changing track, catching the young con unaware. “Is it to do with Kate?”

Neal blinked, swallowing, and glanced away in defeat. “Peter…”

“Neal, listen to me a minute. Look, I know how much this means to you. If El had been…” Peter paused, taking a moment to get the feelings of panic in his chest under control. “I get it. I get that you need answers. But you need to let me in here. I promised I'd help you, but I can't if you go behind my back and do things like this. You cut it too fine today. I thought I wouldn't get there in time.”

“I would have worked something out. I usually do…”

Peter sighed in exasperation, “Neal, you can't just rely on blind luck all the time! Sara was well within her rights to press charges against you and we couldn't have done a damned thing about it. The answers aren't worth the price of your freedom.”

“I need to know the truth…”

“I know that. I _do_. But it needs to be done properly. I won't let you throw your life away in a ploy for vengeance. We’ve talked about your impulsive actions before and I know I've told you before that putting yourself at risk isn't okay.”

Neal managed to nod weakly, unsure what else to say. He couldn't argue that Peter had told him that he needed to curb his actions a little because he couldn't stay out of prison forever on his current trajectory. Kate’s death had given him an unwanted revelation: even the great Neal Caffrey wasn't immortal.

Peter eyed him quietly for a few moments, clearly scrutinising him for signs of dishonesty. Eventually he nodded to himself, satisfied by whatever he saw, “You understand why I can't let this go?” he asked patiently, fairly sure that Neal knew what he had planned because this wasn't the first time he'd used less-than-official methods on his mischievous CI.

Neal sighed, “Well, for one thing you promised Sarah Ellis that you'd speak to me about stealing from her. Peter, I get it. Next time I'll… uh… I'll tell Mozzie no…”

Peter chuckled, “No, you won't. You two are as bad as each other. Lucky for him, he's not my wayward CI who, annoyingly, likes guaranteeing me Caffrey-sized headaches at every chance he gets. I'm under no illusions here, I know that when it comes to Kate there's no length you wouldn't go to for her. I just need you stop and _think_ in the future. Next time, you come to me. We could have handled this together.”

Neal held one hand up in a placating manner, the other loosely gripping his barely touched bottle of water. “Alright, maybe you have a point. I'm, uh, sorry. I'll try to come to you in future.”

Peter nodded, offering Neal a rare smile that reached his eyes. “Thank you," Peter said, giving Neal the briefest of moments to exhale, relax and think he had narrowly escaped Peter's correcting hand. Very brief. "Now, there's still the small matter of you going behind my back and jeopardising your future with your latest little stunt." 

Neal swallowed audibly. So much for avoiding his handler’s unorthodox discipline methods tonight. This would be the second time in as many weeks that he had to face Peter’s brand of cruel and unusual punishment. It still horrified him to be _spanked_ of all things, but somehow it fit with the relationship he and Peter were developing as they got to know one another better. Neal had meant it back at the clinic when he'd said Peter was the only one in his life who he truly trusted, and even under these strange and uncomfortable circumstances, he found himself trusting the older man implicitly. 

Part of him was scared to admit it, but Peter was the only real legit role model he'd ever had and as weeks passed by, he found some small part of himself increasingly wanting to emulate the only person, aside from his best friend, who'd ever truly and completely believed in him. Peter’s disappointment cut him to the core because Peter’s opinion actually mattered. He forced himself to speak up before his nerves completely deserted him under the cool, steady gaze he currently found himself the recipient of. “Peter, listen… I know I made an error in judgement, but there's no need to be rash here… I'll apologise to Sara.”

“Good, I'm glad. That won't save your ass though, kid. This isn't the first time we’ve been here, and somehow I doubt it'll be the last. This is the only thing that seems to reign you in a little, Caffrey. Now, quit stalling. You know the drill here. You also know that actions have consequences and unfortunately for you, I’m not going to let this slide. Please don't make this tougher on either of us than it needs to be.”

Neal groaned but self-preservation was cautioning him to heed the warning he heard in Burke’s voice. “You know,” he said conversationally as he placed his bottle on the counter and went about the process of losing his suit jacket, hat and shoes, “I _really_ hate it when you do this, Peter. It's…”

“Cruel and unusual punishment. I know. But I also know that you know exactly how to avoid this. We've been here often enough. Maybe one day your thick skull will take in what I'm saying to you.” 

Neal huffed, refusing to answer. Eventually he was ready and turned back to Peter, noticing with a groan that he'd also ditched his water bottle and suit jacket and his right shirt sleeve had been rolled up to just below his elbow. Well, that didn't look promising, Neal thought glumly. “Where…?” he asked, trying not to sulk too obviously. 

Peter wanted nothing more than to reach out and squeeze the kid’s shoulder in reassurance, but knew he needed to be firm with the man he saw as a troublesome little brother. Neal infuriated him, but he was his headache and his alone. Well, aside from all the other agents who worked with them. Still, the sentiment stood. He was slowly learning that he'd do almost anything to keep Neal from returning to jail. Resolve renewed by the memory of how close he'd come to that actually happening today, he thought for a moment before pointing towards the couch. “Over there,” he decided, glancing round the room for something to use as he followed Neal towards the couch. He spotted one of Neal’s fancy Armani slippers and hummed thoughtfully. The sole of that would definitely be sturdy, given the obscene amount of money these fashion accessories cost nowadays. 

Thankfully, Neal didn't notice him bending down to pick it up on his way to the couch, nor did he notice him depositing it on the couch cushion furthest away from where the ex-con stood trying not to squirm. He let him wait a minute longer before sitting down in the middle of the comfortable couch and patting his thigh. “Alright, kid. Tell me why I'm spanking you this time?”

Neal grimaced, not appreciating the choice of words his mentor was using. “I let Moz steal the package from Sara… Look Peter, do you have to do it _that_ way?” he pleaded, trying not to look quite as petulant as he felt.

Peter struggled not to chuckle at the expression on Neal’s face. Admittedly, Peter had started putting him over his knee less and less recently, but tonight it felt like the right way to do things, given the context; Peter felt a protective surge whenever Neal’s infractions involved his deceased girlfriend. He considered Neal’s request but the reality of how close he’d been to losing Neal was too fresh in his mind and he wagered the younger man could do with a bit of humbling. “Afraid so, buddy. And for the record, you didn't _let_ the little guy do anything. He doesn't need permission from anyone, remember? I know you two masterminded it together, and I get that you're trying not to admit it was you, but I know you, Neal. Tell me the truth.”

Neal shot him a look of pure horror, but acceptance glittered in his eyes as he sighed, one hand waving away the point like it didn't matter. “I might have planted the idea. It wasn't like I could go and get it when she was already on high alert around me, and Mozzie is good at what he does. I didn't know when he was going or how he'd do it, and I sure as hell didn't know he'd left it here. I'm not _that_ stupid…”

Peter shook his head in exasperation. “You're not stupid at all, that's one of the problems here. You're too smart for your own good sometimes. Alright, lose the slacks and get over here.”

“Peter…”

“ _Now_ , Neal.”

Neal’s face took on an embarrassed glow, but he didn't stall any further. He took his time unbuttoning his slacks and sliding them over his hips and down his long legs, figuring he might as well ditch them without the embarrassment of getting them tangled up in a heap in ten minutes. Besides, he'd probably have to put on something more comfortable when Peter left. Experience had taught him what to expect from these particular ‘discussions.’

When he'd stalled as much as he could without testing Peter’s patience too much, he reluctantly stepped closer to his handler and managed to bend himself over Peter’s spread knees, moving around a little to try to get comfortable; Peter spent a lot of time working out and doing manual labour when they weren't in the Bureau and damn it, his thighs were muscular. It was hard to find a comfortably way to lie across such an uncomfortable surface. 

Eventually he stopped moving and Peter had to try to hide a sigh of relief that the younger man hadn't fought him too much. The agent wasn't a huge believer in talking while he spanked; he made sure both parties knew why they were in the situation they were in and then he made his disapproval evident. He didn't really understand why this method seemed to work, and he wasn’t totally sure why he'd even started meting out discipline like this to the boyish con (apart from the fact that Neal’s bratty behaviour just called for a response at times), but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth as Neal appeared to benefit from it as well. 

He wrapped an arm around Neal’s waist and raised his hand, bringing it down crisply on the boxer-clad backside over his lap. Neal didn't make a sound, but Peter knew him well enough to recognise the tension saturating the kid’s shoulders as he settled into a rhythm, increasing the force of the spanks a little to make sure he was making an impression. Good. The damn fool deserved it for always managing to get himself into situations like this. Peter shook away his thoughts; he didn't want to get distracted, not when it was so crucial that Neal started learning to heed what he said. They were here too often for Peter just to gloss over his friend's wrongdoings all the time.

For a while, the only sound in the studio was that of Peter’s hand meeting Neal’s buttocks, landing in steady, even swats that Peter knew had to hurt. He'd always had a sturdy forearm, ever since his days playing field in baseball, and he was glad at times like this that he'd made a point to maintain the ‘jockey’ physique he’d prided himself on as a student. Growing up on a ranch had helped build muscle over many years, and he maximised that advantage now.

Neal Caffrey was stubborn, but he'd met his match in Peter Burke.

It took longer than Peter expected, but eventually he recognised the telltale signs that Neal was feeling the effects of the spanking. He'd started to huff under his breath, and one hand snaked up towards the couch cushion and gripped it tight. Relieved, Peter decided it was time to move on. 

He paused and shook out his hand, giving them both a couple of minutes to catch their breath, then turned his focus back to his protege, raising his right knee to expose the curve of Neal’s backside. Neal tensed, fist clenching in the cushion, and shook his head slightly. Peter frowned in disbelief. He didn't understand how, even in this position, Neal _still_ had the audacity to try to dictate how this went down. “Neal…,” he warned patiently, hoping to avoid any comments from his friend.

“What?” To anyone listening, Neal would have sounded perfectly in control of himself, but Peter heard the slight breathlessness in his voice and the hint of a wobble in the pitch of his words. Neal had openly admitted in the past that he didn't have a particularly high pain threshold, so Peter knew he shouldn't be surprised by the kid’s reaction. Still, there was something just a little satisfying knowing that he had his partner’s attention. 

“Cut it out. You screwed up today, you don't get to decide how I dish out your punishment. You're lucky I'm leaving you with your boxers…”

Neal grunted, turning his head away from Peter’s general direction. Of course, they both knew that Peter was unlikely to follow through with that threat unless Neal gave him some serious resistance. The aim of this wasn't to break Caffrey, although Peter wagered the man could do with it at times.  
At least, he needed to be broken in the sense of a horse; he reminded Peter of a particularly wild stallion they'd had on the farm he'd grown up on. Midnight had given them all a run for their money, and at one point Peter had been forbidden from riding him until he'd been broken. Naturally he'd ignored his dad’s orders and had wound up in much the same position Neal was now in, wishing he'd done as he was told for a change. 

It had taken a while, but eventually Dad had broken the headstrong horse and Midnight had become one of the most beloved animals on their farm. Peter had no doubt Neal could make the same progress and could really become the man Peter and El believed he could be. If that meant having to rein him in whenever he went too far or tried to jump the fence at the end of the paddock, then it was worth it.

The analogy in his own mind helped Peter find his focus again, and as he nodded to himself thoughtfully, he realised that Neal was starting to squirm restlessly. Neal never had been good at waiting, despite the level of patience required to successfully pull off some of the cons the younger man had in his lifetime. 

Peter tightened his hold and dropped his hand heavily, cupping his palm slightly to create a louder swat. He knew Caffrey hated the sound of the spanking and hoped it might have a greater effect more quickly. Neal soon began to react to the attention being directed towards the top of his thighs and the area where his buttocks and thighs met, totally unimpressed by how thorough Peter was being. He let out a sigh of relief when Peter dropped his knee again and landed a few token slaps to the centre of his butt before pausing.

However, the reprieve was short lived. Neal yelped as he felt something other than Peter’s hand collide with his backside. “What the…? Peter, what are you doing?!” he blurted, struggling to slip into his usual charismatic persona while trying not to squirm like a naughty kid over his mentor’s lap. 

“I finally see the appeal in these fancy slippers of yours, Caffrey. They're pretty sturdy. Now, remind me why we’re here, please.”

“Peter…,” Neal groaned, mortified. Tears were stinging his eyes and threatening to overflow and he wasn't sure how much of this he could take. Another thud could be heard in his apartment, followed by a sharp ache on the center of his right buttock, and it was all he could do not to try to force his way upright. “I… ow! Moz and I agreed it would be best for him to st...steal the package for me!”

“Right. So you were both in this together. Why isn't that an acceptable thing to do, mm? Why was I so disappointed to hear you'd been involved in more thievery today?”

“Mmph! Because I nearly got arrested. Peter, I get it! No stealing, and no getting others to steal for me!”

Peter nodded in approval, glad to hear Neal seemed to be getting the message. “I'm glad we’re on the same page, Neal. It doesn't matter how many times you do something dumb or reckless, I'll do this every time. You are worth far more than a life spent in prison and I plan to do everything in my power to avoid you going back there, _even_ if it means embarrassing you a little in the short run to protect you in the long run.”

Neal sniffed, squirming at the quiet, heartfelt words. Peter didn't particularly wear his heart on his sleeve, so when he did get emotional, Neal knew that it was genuine. He felt miserable knowing how disappointed Peter was in his and Mozzie’s actions. He didn't see why Moz wasn't getting caught in the crossfire but he didn't feel like this was the best time to question Peter’s methods. 

The slipper landed with unerring accuracy until Neal really was squirming and struggling not to kick or buck. He hated being vulnerable, but a part of him knew he was safe with Peter. And anyway, it _hurt_ , especially when Peter tipped him forward again and started whacking at the undercurve of his buttocks and his thighs relentlessly, increasing the force behind the spanks enough to make it a struggle to breathe normally. He wasn't sure how, but somehow Peter seemed to know the moment the tears started up again, by the set of his shoulders or, well, _something_ , so he tried to focus on something else. 

Neal was starting to question whether getting hold of the tape -- at least in this fashion -- was really worth it. Peter had promised to help him and Neal knew the older man was pulling every string available to him at the Bureau to try to solve this unofficial case that was taking up the conman’s whole existence right now. Maybe Peter was right about trusting official routes, but Neal just couldn't, not when it was FBI agents who had ruined his love life so spectacularly in the first place. 

Fresh tears spilled over and he let himself cry quietly, tired of debating what was right or wrong. Could he really give up on his private research at the expense of feeling like he'd betrayed Kate? He guessed it didn't matter now, anyway; Sara had the tape again and he wasn't going to risk trying to acquire it by unapproved methods. Besides, even someone as skilled as Mozzie couldn't have copied the content of the tape that quickly. Neal would just have to give Peter a chance to help him out with this latest challenge, even though it might take longer than Neal felt like he could wait. 

He didn't know how to tell the agent what was so important about the package, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Peter had already figured out that it was about the explosion, so maybe it wasn't that much of a stretch to let his friend in. He was surprised to acknowledge he _wanted_ to let his favourite lawman in. Peter hadn't let him down in all their time working together and his instincts told him that he wouldn't break Neal’s trust now.

***

Peter knew the moment that Neal gave into quiet tears and knew he wouldn't need to drag things out any further. For all Neal put on a good show as part of the ongoing con that was Caffrey’s life, Peter didn't think he'd be so brash as to fake tears to get out of trouble. Their partnership relied on being able to -- mostly -- trust one another and Peter liked to think they were getting better at mutual trust. It was no cake-walk but they were making progress, slowly but surely.

He landed a last flurry of breathtaking spanks to Neal’s thighs and stopped, letting the slipper drop to the floor quietly. He doubted it was the hardest spanking he'd given Neal so far, or the worst he'd dish out, but he could see a faint glow at the edge of Neal’s boxers. His brat of a ward would be feeling this until tomorrow at least; hopefully that would inspire some caution on the conman’s part for a few weeks at least. Neal had the greatest propensity for trouble that Peter had ever seen in anyone, man or child, and he had no doubt his friend would be up to mischief again before the month was out.

He sighed, patting Neal’s back to let him know it was over, then sat quietly for a couple of minutes to let him get his emotions under control. He'd done this before and learned the hard way that Neal didn’t appreciate being prodded before he could reconstruct a little of the walls he placed around himself on a daily basis. 

When he was satisfied that Neal had ridden out the initial storm, he took a calming breath and spoke quietly. “You ready to come up now, buddy?” 

Neal managed a weak nod, levering himself upright and wiping a hand across his watery eyes before offering Peter a meek smile. “You're getting far too good at that…”

“You give me too much reason to practice, buddy.” Peter waited until Neal grinned sheepishly in response, then turned more somber. “Seriously though, how are you holding up?”

Neal shrugged, offering his handler his patented smile. “I'll live.” He was quiet for a moment as he considered his next words. “Uh, Peter? I am sorry. Moz and I, we shouldn't have put you -- or Sara -- in the position we did. It was reckless and stupid. I'm usually better than that…”

Peter glanced up at his fidgeting friend, offering him a knowing smile. “You've had a lot on your mind.” Seeing that Neal obviously had something more to say, Peter stood up and patted him on the shoulder. “Wait. Let's grab a drink and get some fresh air…” 

Neal nodded, then grimaced. “I gotta just grab some pants…” 

“On you go. Wine, I assume?”

“You should never assume, Peter…” Neal teased but nodded with a genuine smile. “But yes,that would be perfect. There's a nice Shiraz on the wine rack. _And_ some of that God-awful beer you insist on poisoning yourself with. I'll be there in a minute.”

***

Neal stretched, draining the last of his wine with a sigh. Peter had left fifteen minutes before, keen to see Elizabeth before he called it a night. Neal had admitted what was so important about the package and to his surprise and relief, Peter had understood his desperation perfectly. Sure, he'd insisted that stealing the tape wasn't the answer, but his brown eyes had held nothing but warmth and empathy once Neal was finished pouring his heart out. Peter had once again promised that they were going to get to the bottom of everything that had happened a few months previously, and Neal just about believed him.

He yawned, debating between another glass of the Shiraz and getting an early night when there was a knock at the door. He frowned, confused, and started towards the source of the noise. Peter had probably just forgotten something, he mused tiredly.

He was rendered temporarily speechless for the second time that day, when he opened the door and came face to face with Sara Ellis. “Sara,” he managed weakly, unable to think of something smarter to say. “What can I do for you?”

Sara offered him a sunny smile, holding up the tape. “Well? Aren't you going to invite me in?” 

Neal raised his eyebrows in bewilderment at her change of heart but obediently stepped aside. “Sure...”

Sarah rolled her eyes, moving to the table to get out her laptop and shooting him a look that showed her disbelief at his uncertainty. Neal Caffrey was never unsure of himself, her gaze seemed to say. Neal had to fight not to blush awkwardly. He didn't need to worry for long as she was obviously excited about something, and it soon proved to be contagious. “I thought we could listen to your tape. I want to know what was so worth getting caught stealing from me, Caffrey. Besides, I _love_ a good mystery.” 

Neal stared at her for a moment as he processed the offer behind her teasing, unable to believe his luck, but soon sprung to action with a smile. He joined her at the table with a top up of wine for himself and a fresh glass for her, avoiding the hard wooden chairs, and stood behind her seat, leaning forward with one palm on the table and the other resting on the chair behind her as she set the sound clip up and queued it to play. 

He promised himself he'd tell Peter about this first thing in the morning. After all, if it wasn't for Peter’s seemingly unshakeable faith in him, he wouldn't be taking a step closer to finding out what happened the day his life was turned upside down.

The End


End file.
